Monty stroked his beard. “Maybe they’re afraid of us for when the war’s begun, of what we’d be capable of. Considering we held the Alliance nearly to a draw last time.” [Maya. Post-BDM. Mal and Monty talk, Serenity takes a trip, but there's trouble on the horizon.]

“Yeah. But I got some gutrot in a cupboard somewhere if all you want to do is take off the inside of your stomach.”

Monty grunted half a laugh. “No, this is good.” He sighed. “We’ll get the word out, fast as we can. Soon as we’re away, don’t you worry about that. And Colby might only have the use of one arm at the moment, but he’s pretty good at underhanded Cortex dealings – nobody’s gonna know where it came from.”

“Thanks.”

“But I’m guessing I’m not the only ones you’re contacting.”

“No. Hank’s gonna look at a way of getting the info to Dillon, maybe to Theo Hawkins, Jez Thacker. Maybe he should talk to Colby, see if they can’t come up with something together. Then there’s Alex, Frey’s brother. He might be able to contact those who’re a mite higher up.”

“Freya know you’re planning on getting him involved?”

“Nope. And I’d be grateful if you didn’t tell her, not quite yet. I’d like to break it gentle.”

“Better have Simon ready with the weaves when you do.”

Mal grumbled, “Just keep it under your hat.”

“You got it, Mal.” They touched mugs, each taking a sip before Monty went on, “You think there’s gonna be another war? Over and above what Frey’s gonna do to you when she finds out about her bro.”

Mal sighed. “I don’t know. I got me a whole barnful of theories, but I can’t tell any of ‘em are more likely that another.”

“Want me to keep my ear out?”

“No. Not if it endangers your crew.”

“Wasn’t planning on asking questions. Just … listening.”

“Then okay. Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” He drained his mug. “So … I didn’t exactly read all of those names.”

Mal smiled faintly. “You mean, are you on the list?”

“Well, it did cross my mind. And I’d kinda like to know if I need to sleep with one eye open.”

“You thought I wouldn’t be telling you straight off?”

Monty had the grace to look sheepish under his chin hair. “Well, no. I guess you would’a said.”

“You don’t have to worry,” Mal confirmed. “You’re safe.”

“Safe. Right.” Monty tipped the bottle over their mugs once more, emptying it. “You know, it does strike me that maybe this ain’t the only list about.”

Mal paused, his mug halfway to his lips. “What’re you suggesting?”

“Well, if’n you ain’t on it, and I ain’t … maybe there’s another where we are.”

Mal lowered his mug. “That’s a highly disturbing thought.” Then he shook his head. “There’s over two hundred names on it. One of ‘em is pretty high up in the Alliance. You and me, we’re just small fry. We can barely make enough cashey-money to keep ourselves flyin’, let alone have the time to plot rebellion.”

“You know that and I know that. But I wonder if there’s others have different ideas.” Monty stroked his beard. “Maybe they’re afraid of us for when the war’s begun, of what we’d be capable of. Considering we held the Alliance nearly to a draw last time.”

Taking a large mouthful of alcohol Mal forced it down, despite what he’d said earlier, the liquid warming his stomach into fire as he gathered his thoughts. “Well, maybehaps you’re right. Makes me feel my idea of finding somewhere quiet and setting roots for a spell ain’t such a bad one.”

“You?” Monty slapped him so hard on the back that some of the booze spilled. “There ain’t no way you’re gonna get tied to the dirt. Not ‘til they plant you in it.”

“Which could be sooner rather than later, you keep doing that.” He rolled his shoulders, trying to get rid of the sting.

Monty laughed, a deep guffaw that filled the kitchen and rang through the pipes. “Take a bit more than that, I’m thinking.”

“I hope so,” Freya said from the doorway.

“Come and join us!” the huge man said, waving a hand magnanimously at the empty chairs. “I’m sure we can find another bottle.”

“Maybe later.”

“Then to what do we owe the honour?”

Freya smiled. “Mrs Boden, Simon and your wife have finished comparing recipes, and decided not to duel with soup ladles at dawn.”

Everyone was fragile, and Simon was busy handing out little pills or, in the case of Hank who insisted he was dying, a hypo.

“Nobody said you had to eat that much. Or drink quite so freely,” Simon said, pulling the trigger.

The hiss of gas made Hank wince. “But it was there. And it tasted so good. I mean, the three of you put together a feast for the eyes. And stomach.” He swallowed quickly. “’Cept I think Monty’s wife was trying to kill us all.”

Inez had turned out to be small, dark and slight, her tilted almond eyes warm and happy. Her size suggested she should be quiet, and while she barely raised her voice, it was clear she ruled Monty better than a whole platoon of Alliance purplebellies. Not in a severe fashion, though – from the expression on her face when she looked at her husband, it seemed to be true love.

“You didn’t have to try the curry.”

“I had to,” Hank opined. “To be polite. And it was delicious.”

“It was hot enough to take the varnish off the table.”

Hank sighed happily. “Perfect.”

Mal leaned in the infirmary door. “My pilot fit to fly? ‘Cause there’s a coupla others would like to take his place.”

Hank slithered from the medbed. “Ready, willing and able,” he said, saluting, barely able to focus.

“Just get us ready to leave atmo.” Mal shook his head in disgust and strode away.

---

In the house, in the room that was still called the nursery, Freya was spending a little time with her son.

“Do you mind?” she asked Ethan as she tried to brush his hair, the cowlick at the top refusing to co-operate, as usual. “That all the children are staying behind?”

A wide grin made him look even more like his father than ever. “Can I tell Bethie what to do?”

“You could try. I’m not sure it would work, though.”

“Me neither.” He sighed deeply, making it sound as if the ‘verse was coming to an end. “She’d get her own back.”

“No fighting.”

“No, Mama.”

Freya’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t have time to ask why that sounded a little too false to be true, as Mal shouted up the stairs, “Anyone not on board in five’ll get left behind!”

Freya sighed as Ethan giggled again.

---

The trip to Magdalene was a short haul but took the best part of a full day since Kaylee didn’t want the engines to exceed 40%, meaning they were meandering rather than powering through space.

While the children were staying, happy to play outside with the dogs, or run the Bodens ragged demanding picnics and the like, knowing Monty was on Lazarus, and would stay there at least until they got back, gave Mal a feeling of ease, and probably led to the unusual prospect of him offering to pay for dinner out on the town.

“Are you sure?” Simon asked, knowing his wife was bouncing in her seat. “It isn’t likely to be cheap, not with all of us.”

“Well, the kids ain’t gonna be eating me out of ship and home, and as long as River keeps Jayne in check, I think I can manage.”

Delivering the bull was easily accomplished, and the rancher was pleased with his purchase, handing over a bag of coin that Mal locked in his safe, ready to pass along to O’Higgins on their return. It would have been easier to do it by money transfer via the Cortex, but neither man suggested it, as the powers that be didn’t look kindly on inter-world trading without a whole mess of additional export and import licences, plus all the fees that went with it. That kind of red tape had made many an honest man break the law.

Mal stood leaning on the corral, watching the bull being led nonchalantly towards half a dozen fenced cows. “But you won’t be able to advertise any calves heritage,” he pointed out.

The rancher, a lean, rangy sort of man whose appearance reminded Mal somewhat of Indigo MacCready, shrugged. “Not why I’m buying ‘im. It’s what they don’t understand, the fellers that run things. A man needs to bring in new blood, whether it be in his herd or his family, else you get more than your fair share of back-births.” He fixed Mal with a stern eye. “I’m thinking you know what I’m talking about.”

“I certainly understand how the Alliance likes to get in a man’s way.”

The rancher nodded as if Mal had agreed with everything he’d said. “Anyhow, this bull’s gonna inject that new blood, improve the quality of my steers and make ‘em more purchasable, even if I can’t say who their sire is.” He glanced over to where Jayne was sluicing out the cargo bay. “You and your crew are welcome to stay to supper, if’n you want?”

Mal smiled. “Thanks, but we’ve got plans.”

So, as the sky darkened and stars began to prick out the Prussian blue velvet overhead (Mal was feeling a trifle poetical), he led the way towards a restaurant the rancher had recommended, where gold light spilled out onto the sidewalk and music filtered into the air.

For once the ubiquitous Cortex screen was discreetly hidden behind a row of jardinières, tall plants obscuring all but the very top of the large room. A small five piece orchestra was playing on a small dais at one end, and there was a space for dancing before the white linen-topped tables began.

They were shown to their seats by a smiling waiter, and Mal mentally counted the cash in his wallet.

I have money with me, zhang fu. Freya’s voice wrapped itself around his brain.

He glanced at the woman herself and smiled. Am I that obvious?

She gazed at him, her eyes soft. It’s a lovely gesture.

But I ain’t gonna have to wash dishes?

Not this time.

Pity. I kinda enjoyed it that day on New Hall.

She tried to stop her lips curving. That was your own fault.

For getting my pocket picked?

I got the money back. This was River, who was sitting in her seat, swinging her legs under the table.

Xiao nu, have a conversation with your own husband, Mal thought hard.

River winced and glared at him.

The food was good, and there was plenty of it, even when Jayne asked for a second plate of potatoes.

“Not as good as Mrs B,” Hank observed. “Or Inez, for that matter.”

“Simon’s is better, too” Kaylee said quickly.

“I still say the rota’s rigged,” the young doctor added.

“No idea what you mean, doc,” Mal said, standing up and holding out his hand. “Frey, would you do me the honour of a turn around the floor?”

“I’d be delighted,” Freya said, rising gracefully and allowing him to lead her out to join the slow dancing.

“Guess you’re right.” Freya missed a step, and he said, a chuckle in his voice, “You had too much to drink, ai ren?”

“I …” She shook her head, her brow furrowed.

Concern flashed through him. “Are you feeling okay?”

“It’s not me. Something else.”

“Can you be a bit more specific?”

“No, I … gorramit.” She couldn’t pinpoint it, and it was making her annoyed.

“Mal?” River had also stopped, and even in this light he could see her face had lost its colour. “I think … a wave …”

Mal grunted a curse, then ran for his ship, stabbing at the keypad and willing the lock to disengage quicker. There was a click and a whirr, and he was able to tug the door open, pounding across the cargo bay and up the stairs to the bridge.

A light was blinking urgently on the console.

He flipped the switch even as he slid into the pilot’s seat. “’Nara?”

The ex-Companion’s white face appeared on the screen. “Where the diyu have you been?”

*Goushi, I just knew Mal taking the crew out for a meal would have a down-side. But what happened to Molly? And why in the nine hells didn't Inara know anything was wrong until it was too late? Good to see another chapter as always, Ali D :~)
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Monied Individual - Epilogue"I honestly don’t know if my pilot wants to go around with flowers and curlicues carved into his leg.”
[Maya. Post-BDM. The end of the story, and the beginning of the last ...]

Monied Individual - Part XXMal took a deep breath, allowing it out slowly through his nostrils, and now his next words were the honest truth. “Ain’t surprised. No matter how good you are, and I’m not complaining, I’ve seen enough battle wounds, had to help out at the odd amputation on occasion. And I don’t have to be a doc myself to tell his leg ain’t quite the colour it should be, even taking into account his usual pasty complexion. What you did … didn’t work, did it?”
[Maya. Post-BDM. Simon has no choice, and Luke comes around.]

“Nothing, nothing! I just … I don’t think I’ve ever met a man … anyone else by that name.”

“Yeah, he’s a mystery to all of us,” Mal said. “Even his wife.”

[Maya. Post-BDM. Hank's not out of the woods yet, and Mal has a conversation. Enjoy!]

Monied Individual - Part XVIIIJayne had told him a story once, about being on the hunt for someone who owed him something or other. He’d waited for his target for three hours in four inches of slush as the temperature dropped, and had grinned when he’d admitted to Hank that he’d had to break his feet free from the ice when he’d finished.
[Maya. Post-BDM. The Fosters show their true colours, Jayne attempts a rescue, and the others may be too late.]

Snow at ChristmasShe’d seen his memories of his Ma, the Christmases when he was a boy on Shadow, even a faint echo of one before his Pa died, all still there, not diminished by his burning, glowing celebrations of now with Freya.

[Maya. Post-BDM. A seasonal one-off - enjoy!]

Monied Individual - Part XVIIJayne hadn’t waited, but planted a foot by the lock. The door was old, the wood solid, but little could stand against a determined Cobb boot with his full weight behind it. It burst open.

[Maya. Post-BDM. The search for Hank continues. Read, enjoy, review!]

Monied Individual - Part XVIHe slammed the door behind him, making the plates rattle on the sideboard. “It’s okay, girl, I ain't gonna hurt you.” The cook, as tradition dictated, plump and rosy cheeked with her arms covered to the elbows in flour, but with a gypsy voluptuousness, picked up a rolling pin.

Monied Individual - Part XV“Did we …” “We did.” “Why?” As she raised an eyebrow at him he went on quickly, “I mean, we got a comfy bunk, not that far away. Is there any particular reason we’re in here instead?” “You don’t remember?” He concentrated for a moment, and the activities of a few hours previously burst onto him like a sunbeam. “Oh, right,” he acknowledged happily.

“Did we …” “We did.” “Why?” As she raised an eyebrow at him he went on quickly, “I mean, we got a comfy bunk, not that far away. Is there any particular reason we’re in here instead?” “You don’t remember?” He concentrated for a moment, and the activities of a few hours previously burst onto him like a sunbeam. “Oh, right,” he acknowledged happily.

Monied Individual - Part XIVThis wasn’t how an ex-companion did things. Perhaps she’d been hanging around a certain Firefly captain for too long. He listened at keyholes as if it were a competitive sport.

[Maya. Post-BDM. The crew go to the Spring Lights Procession, Mal gives some good news, and Sir Warwick puts in another cameo. Read, enjoy, review!]

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